


Have a Newborn on Christmas? Need to Take a Nap? Read On...

by Overdressedtokill (SkyeStan)



Series: Craigslist AU [14]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, WASP Wards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 08:31:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5532656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyeStan/pseuds/Overdressedtokill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye is tired. So. Freaking. Tired. Snuggling and banging might ensue with her fiancé, but only If she can get a nap in first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have a Newborn on Christmas? Need to Take a Nap? Read On...

It’s surprisingly easy to hand Briar off to her Uncle Christian.

Skye thinks this may have something to do with the fact that she hasn’t slept in thirty seven hours and fifteen minutes- she’s counted- but that could just be a wild guess.

Briar, seemingly oblivious to the fact that it was Christmas Eve, spent the majority of the night either screaming, wanting to be held, or breastfeeding. Skye is literally out of juice at this point. She needs to hit a refill station, or something.

Grant explained to her, in the car, that it doesn’t work like that, but Skye knows how she feels, damn it.

And, despite pleading with Briar that Santa wouldn’t come if she didn’t go to sleep, Briar remained awake all goddamned night. Likely because she is a month old, and thus her brain is far too baby-sized to understand what a Santa is.

One day, though. One day, it’ll work.

And then they’ll see. They’ll all see.

The thirty-seven hours isn’t even the main total, given that a month with a newborn means pretty much no sleep at all, ever. She hasn’t gotten a full eight hours since Briar was born.

Skye is pretty sure she’s bordering on delirious, at this point. Which is why she says to Christian, “Joyous Festivus, oh brother in law.” Instead of something like, you know, ‘Merry Christmas.’ Like a normal person.

Grant, by the way, seems perfectly fine. He’s solar-powered, probably, and it’s been an especially sunny December. Also, he’s not the one that has to breast-feed, so he probably managed to get some sleep in there, at some point.

What a jerk.

 

 

Christian cradles the now perfectly-behaved Briar to his chest and gives Skye one of _those_ looks. “Are you okay?”

“Tired,” Skye says. “Boobs on empty. Dead.”

“Right,” Christian says. “Grant, is she okay?”

“Briar kept us up last night,” Grant says. 

“I see.”

Skye, with all the gusto of a woman on the edge, points an accusing finger at Christian’s face. She may be smushing his nose. She’s lost track of herself, at this point. “Don’t you take a tone with me, mister.” Smush. “She may be your little angel, but the second she’s old enough to sleep over at your place, YOU WILL SEE.”

Christian stares down at her. “I’m frightened, Grant.”

Briar blinks at her mommy, like even she’s confused.

“Baby,” Grant says, taking Skye’s arm. “You know what? Maybe I can see if you can nap in my old bedroom for a couple of hours. Get some rest in before dinner starts.”

“BUT THE FESTIVITIES!” Skye declares.

Briar shrieks in solidarity.

“Please go upstairs,” Christian says. “Just nap for as long as you like. We’ll all be here when you rejoin the world of the sane and living.”

“THIS WILL BE YOU,” Skye says. “YOU’LL SEE.”

“Okay,” Grant coos, taking her by the shoulders. “Christian, please explain to Mother that we’re resting.”

“My pleasure.”

He kisses her forehead. “Skye, love of my life, reason of my being, I am going to take you upstairs now. Okay?”

“Yes,” Skye says. “Yes. Good.” She leans in, and kisses Briar softly on the head. “Goodbye, Briar. I’ll remember you fondly.”

Briar blinks at her with big, brown eyes.

“Great job,” Skye tells her, and means it.

Christian has never looked quite so terrified in all the time Skye’s known him. Which is saying something. “Grant-”

“We’re going.”

 

 

She registers, faintly, that she’s never actually seen Grant’s childhood bedroom. And she’d love to make a comment about his actual, real-life snow globe collection, but he’s helping her out of her shoes and sweater and into his big, old bed. It’s so warm and cozy, damn it. Inhumanly so.

She will definitely say something about the snow globes when she wakes up.

For now, though.

She’s passing the hell out.

 

\--

 

“Baby,” Grant nudges her shoulder. “Skye. We’re eating in thirty minutes, do you want to come down?”

Skye rouses from sleep like a bulldog does- With a lot of kicking and sniffling. “Holy shit,” she says, rolling over. “You scared me.”

“Oh babe, I’m sorry,” Grant says, frowning. “I didn’t mean to.”

She looks up at him, and shakes her head. “You’re such a tender heart.”

With a decided oomph, she grabs him by the wrist and pulls him into bed. “Skye!”

“Hey, stranger,” she says. “Haven’t had you alone like this in ages.”

He watches as she unfurls herself from the covers. “Skye.” He sounds a little embarrassed. “My family’s downstairs.”

“Please,” Skye says. “This house is gigantic. They can’t hear us.” She rolls on top of him. Lavishes him with a kiss.

“You were practically inconsolable two hours ago,” Grant murmurs. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Had a wet dream,” Skye says. Which is true. And kind of unexpected. She can’t remember the last time she’s had one since Briar was born.

So she’s taking advantage of the moment, is what she’s saying.

His hand finds the small of her back. “Dinner’s soon.”

“We only need fifteen minutes,” Skye says.

“Last time we hooked up at a family gathering,” Grant says. “You kind of had a baby.”

She rests her arms on his chest. Lifts her head. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Maybe.”

“Because you seem like the kind of person that would want me to like, five babies.”

“Maaaaybe.”

She thumbs the scruff on his chin. “Not happening. _If_ we have another one, it’s not going to be for a long, long, _long_ time.”

“Our DNA just wants to go together,” Grant says. “I can’t help it.”

“Is that your excuse for a pick up line?” Skye asks. “You are losing it, babe.”

He tilts his head up. Plants a kiss on her. It’s the kind where he grasps her gently by the back of the head. Where he sucks her bottom lip, just enough to make her want more.

And then he just. Freaking. Stops. “Still losing it?”

She moves her hands to his cheeks. “Shut up.”

He slides his hand to the nape of her neck. Pulls a shudder from her, without meaning to. “Take off your pants.”

“Bossy,” she says. “Trying to prove a point?”

He nips at her. “Could be.”

She wiggles out of her jeans. “Oh Grant, you’re so hot. Put another baby in me.”

He actually whimpers. Ruts up against her.

She doesn’t want to laugh. So she just grins. “Seriously?”

“Well, you were very convincing about it.” His hands makes quick work of her underwear.

Her hands wind up in the little space between their hips. Just so that she can undo his belt. “You’re so cute.”

“I try.”

 

 

Belt’s off. Button, zipper- She takes him in her hand. “Hi, baby.”

He huffs through his teeth. Hand on her ass. Making its way to her inner thigh. “Hi.”

“You feel good.”

A peck. His teeth against the corner of her mouth. “You’re warm.”

“Mn.” A stroke. Another. “Finger me.”

“Of course.” Slow. He’s always so slow about it. He starts with one finger, sinks it all the way in. “Whatever you want.”

“More, babe. Time crunch.”

“But I want to feel you,” he says, as she moves with his hand. “I want to-”

He adds another finger, and she sighs with delight. “Oh, God. Yes.”

“I want to be inside you,” he murmurs. “Come here.”

“I am here.”

He urges her forward. “Please.”

She can’t say no to him. “Just get me a little hotter. Just a little more. Move me onto you.”

There’s no space left between their faces. Just their noses pressed together. Their breath.

She can feel him grin.

He pumps once. Slowly. Then again, with increasing speed. “You’re so wet, babe, fuck-”

“Is that dirty talk?” she says. “I thought you for-”

He curls his fingers. Oh. She feels her toes curl in camaraderie- In pleasure. She shuts her eyes.

“Oh, God-” Her head falls to the nape of his neck. “Oh, Grant-”

In and out of her. Fast enough to get her to moan each time. He’s hitting her in just the right spot, and she’s getting all over his hand, and-

She-

He grabs her by the hips.

She finds him like clockwork. He’s in her- Filling her-

“Skye,” he whines, insistent. “Baby.”

“I’m right here.” She grinds her hips. “I’m right here, Grant.”

“It’s been ages,” he mutters. “You feel so good.”

She sighs against him. “You’re so _big,”_ she coos. “God, Grant, fuck-”

 

 

“Grant, I wanted to tell you that-”

Grant yells, “Don’t come in!” at the exact moment that Skye sits up on his dick, whips her head around, and-

Christian shrieks in what can only be described as sheer horror, and-

Skye shouts “Oh my God!” And-

Christian flings himself into the hallway. “No, Thomas, don’t go in there! They’re- They’re-”

Skye has never been this embarrassed in her entire life. “I’m sorry!”

“Indecent!” Christian yells, panting like he’s run several miles.

“Really?” Thomas asks. “Nice.”

 

 

“I think I’m dead,” Grant whispers. “I think I died.”

“Same,” Skye says. “We should- Uh. I think we should stop.”

“Please just pull the blanket over me and leave me here,” Grant says. “Thank you.”

Skye bites her lip. “Sorry, baby.”

“Not your fault.”

“I mean, everyone knows we have sex-”

“Yeah, but-”

“There’s literal proof of us having sex downstairs-”

“Skye-”

She dismounts. “So really, isn’t it kind of Christian’s fault for thinking we wouldn’t be having sex in the first place.”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Christian asks. “The door is wide open and you’re not whispering.”

Skye finds her underwear on the floor.“Well then you should have heard us before you came in.”

“You were being quiet about it!” Christian protests. “Probably because you know you shouldn’t be having sex at a FAMILY GATHERING.”

“Okay, first of all.” Skye slips on her jeans. “We have had sex at so many of your family gatherings, you have no idea.”

“Lovely.”

“And second, mister high and mighty-” There’s her sweater. “I distinctly recall someone slipping off with his wife at a party just a few months ago.”

“Yeah, Christian,” Thomas adds. “You got it in.”

“Please don’t ever say that to me again,” Christian says. “And fine. But I thought you were still napping.”

Grant’s pulling his pants up. “Why don’t we just never speak of this again?”

“That’s an excellent idea, Grant,” Christian says.

“Oh please,” Thomas says. “Like Christian isn’t memorizing what Skye’s butt-”

“Thomas!”

“Flattering,” Skye says, coming out into the hall. “But ew.”

“I’m not memorizing what your butt looks like,” Christian says. He’s a very particular shade of pink, and Skye’s not sure he’ll ever go back to his normal color. “Jesus Christ.”

“That’s good,” Grant adds, following behind Skye. “Because then I’d have to beat you up.”

A beat.

Skye bursts into laughter. “Oh God, Grant. Good one.”

“What?” Grant says. “I could take him!”

“In what, little brother?” Christian asks. “A fight?”

“I’m stronger than you!” Grant protests. “And I think I’m a half inch taller.”

“You are not!” Christian says. “And besides! I fenced.”

“Oh man,” Skye says. “Look out, everyone.”

“If there are swords involved, we’ll let you know,” Thomas adds. 

Skye loops her arm around Grant’s waist. “I believe in you, tough guy,” she says. “You could definitely take him on.”

Grant proudly puffs out his chest. “Thank you.”

Adorable idiot.

Christian just shakes his head. “You know, I did come up here for a reason.”

Skye tilts her head, “Which is?”

“Gramsy’s here,” Christian says. “Surprise.”

“I came up here because I didn’t feel like talking to anyone downstairs,” Thomas says.

Christian sighs. “Thank you, Thomas.” 

“No problem.”

“But isn’t Gramsy usually in Istanbul this time of year?” Grant asks.

“She wants to see her great-granddaughter,” Christian says. “Shall I go downstairs and explain to her what’s taking so long?”

“Sure,” Skye says. “Go ahead.”

Christian stares down at her. “Well played.”

“Thank you.”

Grant snickers behind her. “Come on,” he says, nudging her. “We haven’t seen Gramsy in ages.”

 

 

Skye is greeted downstairs by an enormous hug from Rosie. Which is really the best Christmas gift of all. “Hi, baby!”

“Feeling better?” Rose asks, wide-eyed. “Christian said you were tired.”

“I feel much better,” Skye says, looping her arm around Rose’s shoulders. “Have you been taking care of Briar for me?”

“Oh, she’s a natural.” Gramsy is sitting on the loveseat, surrounded by a pile of gifts. “Aren’t you, Rosie?”

Rose beams. “I try!”

“Are those all for you?” Skye says. “Christian went all out this year.”

Gramsy gives a half-smile. “Please. He hasn’t gotten me a Christmas present in years.”

“What?” Christian says. “You never- You’re never even around for Christmas! Do you want something? Should I go out?”

“Oh, unclench,” Gramsy says. “I’m just teasing.”

“Where’s Briar?” Skye asks. “I realize I should’ve opened with that, and I don’t want anyone to think I’m a bad mom, but-”

“Here,” Anna says. “Sorry, sorry, I took her into the kitchen for a minute, she’s here.”

“Oh, my baby,” Skye says, holding out her arms. “Did you miss me?”

“She seemed fine, for the most part,” Grant says. “Christian refused to let go of her.”

“She’s not very heavy,” Christian says. “I just wanted to make sure she didn’t get fussy without her mother, is all.”

“She’s so beautiful,” Anna sighs, putting Briar in Skye’s arms. “You two are so lucky.”

“Please,” Gramsy says. “Don’t you two be so wistful. You’ll get your own one day.”

“And then you guys can go without sleep for weeks on end,” Skye says.

“So true,” Gramsy says.

“You really think so?” Christian asks. Which is perhaps the saddest thing Skye’s ever heard him say. But she decides not to press it.

“I know so,” Gramsy says. “Now come get your presents.”

 

 

“You didn’t have to,” Christian says. “I’m a grown man.”

“Depending on how you define it,” Thomas says. “I prefer fancy adult child.”

“Thank you, Thomas.”

“No problemo.”

“Presents!” Rosie says, happily settling next to Gramsy on the loveseat. “Open it, Christian!”

“Rosie helped me pick,” Gramsy says. “She had a pretty good idea of what you’d like.”

“Do you, Rose?” Christian asks. Skye catches the hint of a smile across his face.

“Yep!” Rose says, proudly.

“Come on,” Gramsy hands him the gift. “Open it.”

“It feels... soft,” he says. “That’s unexpected.”

Rose is practically vibrating with excitement. She brings her knuckles to her mouth, if only to keep from blurting out the surprise.

Christian unwraps presents exactly as Skye expects he would. He keeps the paper in perfect condition, carefully peeling back each piece of tape.

Skye rolls her eyes. “Promise me you won’t be that anal-retentive,” she whispers to Briar.

Briar blinks up at her mommy. She’s so pretty. The prettiest, best baby in the whole world. Even if she sleeps like she’s perpetually living out finals week.

“Thank you,” Skye says.

“She’ll be fine,” Grant says, gently brushing his fingers along Skye’s side. “Besides. Christian’s always unwrapped presents like that.”

“Dear God.”

“It’s-” Christian sets the paper aside. “A pair of teddy bear slippers.”

“Because you collect teddy bears!” Rosie says. “And slippers are the best!”

Christian holds the slippers to his chest. “They’re perfect, Rosie.”

“They look super warm,” Anna adds. “I might have to get a matching pair.”

“Do it!” Rose says. “I’m sorry, Anna. I didn’t get you a pair.”

“It’s fine, baby,” Anna says. “I’m sure whatever you picked is perfect.”

“Here!” Rose says. 

 

 

It’s a much smaller box, which usually denotes jewelry of some sort.

Of course, Anna takes off wrapping paper with the same delicacy as Christian.

Skye blinks. “That’s just downright scary.”

“They’re perfect for each other,” Grant adds.

“What do you think, Briar?” Skye asks. “Scary? Is it scary?”

Briar makes a face. It’s an almost-smile, and Skye’s positive if Briar could speak or process words, she would agree.

“Yes it is!” Skye coos. “Christian and Anna are weird! Yes they are!”

“Excuse me,” Christian says. “Again. I can hear you.”

Skye stares back at them. “Kids,” she says, rocking Briar in her arms. “Always saying crazy stuff.”

“Well,” Christian says. “She is your daughter.”

“Please,” Gramsy says. “She takes after me.”

It’s... it’s a lot. Skye strokes Briar’s dark hair. “Really?”

“Dead ringer,” Gramsy says. “She’s gonna be a riot when she gets older.”

Skye smiles. Genuinely. Lovingly. Because she’s happy to be home. “Good.”


End file.
